The Art

When beauty walked into the room I drew
My breath and wondered had he asked for me
As if my language I forgot I knew
I stood before him struck so silently
An artist with my canvasses of lust
So huge in public gallery not hung
But beauty isn’t something art should trust
For surface isn’t where our work is done
Undress the beauty show what lies beneath
And let me draw your breath into my soul
The canvas of your heart has sparked belief
A brush of lips and I have lost control
I stripped my love and now I have to find
The art to capture beauty in the mind

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Author: thepoetautist

A Gay poet of fifty odd years who is currently living in Cambodia.

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